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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22753279">Month 2, Day 8, Year 11r - Love Day</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrionsBeltBuckle/pseuds/OrionsBeltBuckle'>OrionsBeltBuckle</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Jah'ko'bi's Journey [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Twin Mask</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>LARP, Other</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 10:49:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>824</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22753279</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrionsBeltBuckle/pseuds/OrionsBeltBuckle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In the darkness, stillness, and freezing breeze of night, he walked. He felt heavy. He felt a largeness swell on his shoulders and crunch the base of his neck. His pointed ears sensitive against the deep cold night, picking up the whispers of the faint stars as they poured nonsensical, ambiguous queries into his head. He heaved in chilling air out of shielded disquietness, it travelled down his throat in a heaping spoonful of uncertainty and naivety. . .</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Jah'ko'bi's Journey [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1635958</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Month 2, Day 8, Year 11r - Love Day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a short decompression story about my LARP character. I understand that no one will read this. I am just uploading this for archival purposes and possibly keeping track of my journeys. Thanks anyways.   </p><p>Chosen background ambience: https://youtu.be/5-UWXylsgag</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p></p><div class="">
  <p>
    <em> <span class="">February Game 2020</span></em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <strong> <span class="">Jah’ko’bi Decompression:</span></strong>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>     In the darkness, stillness, and freezing breeze of night, he walked. He felt heavy. He felt a largeness swell on his shoulders and crunch the base of his neck. His pointed ears sensitive against the deep cold night, picking up the whispers of the faint stars as they poured nonsensical, ambiguous queries into his head. He heaved in chilling air out of shielded disquietness, it travelled down his throat in a heaping spoonful of unc<span class="text_exposed_show">ertainty and naivety. The breath reeled in so deep, the locket that weighed on his neck nicked his chest with an assault of frigid metal. His gloved hands inadvertently twisted at the wilting flowers that were suffocating tucked beneath his belt. When he walked, his boots scrapped against the ground in prostration, scuffing up crumbling rubble and unhinging loose weeds. Jah’ko’bi was truly drowning in a sea of his own speculations.</span></p>
</div><div class="text_exposed_show">
  <p></p>
  <div class="">
    <p>     Earlier that day, he had the honour to finally meet the Perillinen of his house. He observed her make the toughest decisions, he observed the others in her presence, and took in the exchanges in-between. He approached her personally for guidance and soaked up as many offerings of wisdom she could pour. She was much younger compared to himself, and yet he greatly admired her strength and knowledge. After escorting her out of town, he found a quiet nook within the dilapidated buildings of Port Frey and nested in contemplation. He had many letters to write, he had plans that needed formulation, and he had lots of gathering he needed to do. This was going to be a process that would steal the most of him; long, arduous, and debilitating. He was already exhausted, but somehow kept on walking.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>     In close range, he spotted the flickering lanterns of the Nadine Encampment and suddenly his nerves fell deeper into his chest. He quickly pulled his hand back from the flowers he was twisting and remembered why he was promenading in the first place. This wasn’t his first time wandering near The Empire’s encampment, but with the recent attacks he noticed more Legionnaires posted around the anterior. He stepped sideways from the encampment and ducked into the trees.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>     The Moon’s piercing beams fought against the rolling fog, showcasing the air gradually getting thicker. The closer he approached Nadine the heavier he breathed, attempting to gulp down the soupy bitter and bleak sky. He knew with the tight anterior he would have to slip through the boards of the back gate and into the Shrine. He respected Nadine culture, but the Shrine was an ever-changing plague of questionable and grotesque, and this time was truly no different. As Jah’ko’bi slipped through the wooden panels he was instantly hit with a wet smell of putridity. Shaken with rancidity and bombarded his nose with sour. The sight was one he could never repeat to anyone, truly monstrous, lurid, thoroughly and undeniably ugly. Everything was painted with a red he knew very well. If the air was thick outside, it completely engulfed the Shrine and choked it into a gross staleness. Out of sheer unsettlement of his surroundings, he hiked up his hood further and proceeded rather quickly out the Shrine.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>     Before him, his destination. A tent that appeared so large it toppled over him in power, attempting to squish his last bit of gallantry. However, Jah’ko’bi was suddenly filled with an infatuation too vigorous to notice the pavillion patronizing him. The vibrant emerald and silver banners draped across the sides illustrating it’s residents caused a spark to surge inside him. He knew at this moment, he was foolish and this was foolish. Howbeit, he allowed the trivial moment.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>     He grasped the small bouquet that travelled with him throughout the day and examined them one last time. The flowers were dismal. Their colour diminished significantly, their petals dwindled in numbers, and their stem drooped heavily. He sighed, knowing his mind’s uneasiness had a hand in their ruin. He reached into his pouch to procure the other various Love Day gifts he scrambled for and proceeded to judge his own gathering skills with extreme harshness. He knew he could do better, but the ringing sound of his tribesman’s laughter flooded his mind with doubt. The day had been riddled with meetings, battles, and planning that his Love Day gifts seemed inadequate. He would have to come up with something more appropriate for the following gathering. He looked back up at the looming tent, criticizing him, realizing perhaps nothing he could supply would be adequate for who he yearned.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>     Regardless, Jah’ko’bi crouched down and quietly set the gifts at the edge of the tent’s entrance. Setting it up to look semi-presentable he took a step back to admire. It was awful. His heart sank.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>     He left it, feeling slightly grim as he calmly prepped himself to slip back through the egregious scene of the Shrine and out the back wooden panels.</p>
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